


Snippets of Time

by Casey_Wolfe



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Angst, Break ups and make ups, Canon Injury, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-War, Pre-Canon, Rare Pairings, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 02:57:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10981908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casey_Wolfe/pseuds/Casey_Wolfe
Summary: Theirs wasn’t an easy story, but it was theirs all the same.  They knew stolen moments might be all they ever had, but somehow that seemed worth it.





	Snippets of Time

**Author's Note:**

> I hate all of you for encouraging this.

They were in the same platoon, so it was natural that they became close.  Joe hung around with Tab a lot in the early days.  Chuck inevitably came along.  The pair made eyes at each other so much that it had Joe rolling his.  Not as though he were about to say anything.

Then of course there were guys like Malarkey and Muck who seemed a bit more trouble than they were worth, but they amused Joe.  Toye, he was really quiet but Joe liked that about him.  They had spent time together, literally doing nothing more than sitting next to each other and watching the goings on around them in complete silence.  It was comforting in a way.

That left Guarnere.  Joe wasn’t sure if he wanted to punch the guy square in the face or ask him out back after lights-out.  The guy was sin on legs.  Didn’t hurt he had a mean right hook, which Joe found out about after a few drinks out on a weekend pass when they got into it.

They were both spitting blood and ended up grinning at each other like idiots.  They went back to drinking, their sides pressed together the rest of the night.

Later, back at the hotel, they were pressed together again.  Joe was laid out underneath Bill, blunt nails trying to claw marks into his back while Bill left bruises on his collarbone.  It was the start of something Joe already knew he wasn’t going to be able to shake.

* * *

It was convenience, that’s what Bill told himself.  Why should he go look for someone else to fuck around with when Joe was right there, and willing?

They spent their passes stinking up cheap motel rooms and drinking too much.  Back at camp, they kept close for safety against Sobel and his pet officers.

It was strange, actually, watching the way the whole of Easy Company was coming together.  They had bonded as squads and then platoons, but Bill noticed just how much they had really gravitated towards one another.  That just made it all the more obvious when there was just  _ one  _ of those men Bill kept  _ gravitating  _ to.

He tried pulling away, put distance between them, but Joe -  _ damn him _ \- was magnetic.  His words were lethal and his punches just as sharp.  And fuck if he wasn’t gorgeous on top of it.  No, Joe had his hooks in good.

Not that Bill was complaining, blowing smoke from his lips.  A hand reached over and took the cigarette from him, Joe bringing it to his own mouth for a drag.  Bill wanted to kiss that damn smirk away.

* * *

A kiss with a fist.  Joe figured their relationship wasn’t exactly healthy, but it wasn’t as though he gave a fuck either.  They both liked it rough.  There was never anything soft about what they did.  Teeth, nails, it was all fair game.

Having Bill pinned face-first to the wall, fingers yanking on barely long enough hair, Joe showed his teeth.  “You really think you can flirt with other guys in front of me?” he asked.  When Bill only growled, Joe pulled his head back, jerking Bill’s neck at a painful angle.  The growl turned into a groan.  “Well?”

“Wasn’t flirtin’,” Bill managed, “asshole.”

“Offering to buy him a drink wasn’t flirting?”  Joe grabbed Bill’s hand as it came up to dislodge Joe’s hold, putting it on the wall.  He finally gave Bill his head back, but only to grab Bill’s other wrist.  He pressed further into Bill’s space.

“No, it ain’t.  Guy was from back home.  Or did ya miss the accent?”

“Hard to miss the shit that comes outta your mouth.”

“Har har,” Bill replied dryly.  “Ya wanna do somethin’ or what?”  Bill pushed his hips back so his ass rubbed against Joe pointedly.  “Or should I go back to the bar?”

“Shut it and get on the bed,” Joe huffed.

They were both grinning, despite the harshness of their words.

* * *

“‘Ey.”  Bill smacked the back of his hand off Joe’s shoulder.  When Joe turned, the glint of his new jump wings caught the light and Bill smiled.  “We did it.”

Joe gave him an easy grin in turn.  “We sure did.”

They had managed to survive Sobel, survive Currahee.  The 101st would be moving out soon to another camp for more training, but all of Easy was anxious to get out in the thick of it now.

Bill held up his beer and Joe clinked their glasses together.  After taking a sip, Bill leaned in and whispered into Joe’s ear, “Meet up on Currahee tonight.”  He didn’t wait for an answer; he knew Joe would be there.

Sure enough, after everyone had gone to bed, Bill made the trip up Currahee in his PT clothes.  He took it at an easy jog, making good time.  It looked like Joe had beaten him there.

Joe’s eyes were bright in the moonlight.  “Well, here I am,” he mentioned while Bill caught his breath.  “What is it you were planning on doing up here?”

Bill smirked.  “You know exactly what.”  He grabbed Joe’s shirt, yanking him into a biting kiss.

Joe chuckled, fingers digging in where he held Bill’s hips.  “Not gonna hear any complaints from me.”

It was the best way to celebrate, hands down.

* * *

“What the hell do you mean ‘it’s over’?” Joe demanded.

“You heard me,” Bill replied, jaw clenching.  He had that  _ I’m not fucking around anymore  _ expression on his face, but like hell that would work on Joe.

He smacked the finger away that was pointed at him, shoving Bill back against the wall of the barracks.  There were only a few other guys in there, but they were down at the other end and wouldn’t hear a thing - not like half the damn company didn’t already know about them.

“Don’t start,” Bill warned, pushing him back.  “I already told ya all I got to say.  It’s over, Joe.  Done.  This?” - he gestured a finger between them - “No more.”

Joe growled.  “And why the fuck is that?”  Just yesterday everything was fine.

_ “We got tomorrow, and then we are outta here, baby,” Joe said, smiling from ear to ear as he looked over at Bill.  He grinned right back, rubbing between Joe’s shoulder blades.  “We’re goin’ to war.”  There was a glint in Bill’s eyes, just as eager to get out to the fight. _

“I shouldda never got attached,” Bill answered.  “Nothin’ good can come a this.  Not when we’re goin’ out there.”

“So, this is you bein’ noble?” Joe spat.

Bill grinded his teeth side to side.  “Better to end it now than somethin’ happen to one of us.”

Joe scoffed.  “Unbelievable.”  He wanted to punch Bill straight in his stupid face.  Instead, he walked away.

* * *

They hadn’t really spoken since departing Camp Mackall.  Now they were on a troopship, headed for God-only-knew.  Joe tried to channel his anger, think about the Nazi bastards he was going to kill, but it was hard with Bill  _ right there _ .

“That prick’s the son of Abraham.”

Bill’s voice drew his attention.  Joe furrowed his brows, looking over to him.  “What?”

“He’s a Jew,” Bill answered easily, putting out his cigarette.

Joe scoffed, throwing his own cigarette down before jumping off his bunk.  He got right into Bill’s face.  “I’m a Jew,” he reminded, as though Bill and the others didn’t already know.

“Congratulations,” was Bill’s bland reply.  “Get your nose outta my face.”

He pushed Joe away and that was it.  Joe swung on him but Bill expected it, blocking and trying to grab ahold of him.  Of course, the rest of the guys were on them in an instant, yelling and trying to pull them apart.  Joe didn’t care.  He wanted Bill’s blood.  The bastard had hurt him far more than anyone else had, and Joe wanted to make him pay for it.

When fists and feet were no longer in range, he resorted to throwing barbed words, hoping they hit their mark.  Let Bill get his damn heart ripped out like he’d done to Joe.

* * *

Bill hadn’t cried since he was a kid.  The letter was crumpled in his hand - Johnny’s wife had written to him; Bill’s brother was dead.

So caught up in his own thoughts, he barely registered someone moving nearby.  “Shit.  Who…?”  Bill looked up and found Joe coming towards him, cigarette hanging from his lips.  He froze the second he made out who it was.  “Bill.”

Joe could have just walked then and there.  Honestly, he should have.  Bill had treated him like shit.  It was what he deserved.  Instead, Joe took a few more steps towards him.  “Bill?  What’s wrong?”  He noticed the letter and asked, “What happened?”

“My brother got killed in Italy.”  There was no use lying about it.

“Fuck,” Joe hissed softly.  He crouched down in front of Bill, holding onto his knee.  “I…  I’m sorry.”

Bill nodded, not looking at him.

“If you want to be alone…”

Bill’s hand fell on top of Joe’s.  “No, it’s… s’okay.”

Joe nodded, giving Bill’s knee a squeeze.  They didn’t say a word to each other for a long time.

Finally, Bill broke and admitted, “I was scared.  Still am actually.”

“‘Bout what?” Joe scoffed.  “You ain’t scared of anything.”

“Scared of losing you.”  Bill finally looked up, finding Joe gazing back in confusion.  “When it finally hit me we was shippin’ out, I knew that was it.  We can be dead out ‘ere in so many ways.  I jus’...  I dunno what I’d do if somethin’ happened to you, Joe.”

Understanding crossed Joe’s face, but he frowned all the same.  “That was pretty damn selfish.”  He stood then, looking down on Bill with mixed emotions.  “You don’t think I’d be lost without you?  That’s the risk we all take.  We chose this!  You don’t get to back out just ‘cause you’re afraid of gettin’ hurt!”

“It’s the best thing for both of us,” Bill reasoned, though it sounded hollow, even to his own ears.

“Bullshit.”  Joe huffed, shaking his head and walking away from him for a second time.  Bill swallowed the lump in his throat, his chest hurting even more.

* * *

Joe felt like shit for leaving Bill the night before.  He was pissed at Bill, sure, but he still cared, which was the crux of it.  Mostly, though, he shouldn’t have left Bill knowing that he was hurting like that.  His brother had  _ died  _ for fuck’s sake, and Joe had let it become about them.

They were in their planes, ready to make their first combat jump, and Joe would blame the airsickness pills for making him loopy.  He grabbed the front of Bill’s harness when he got on board, staring him straight in the eye.

“You be careful out there.”

Bill nodded slowly, cautious.

“And it ain’t over.”  Joe slammed their mouths together, harsh and unyielding.  There was no arguing this.  Joe wouldn’t allow Bill to run anymore.

When he released him, Bill was just staring.  Finally, his lips twitched up a little.  “It ain’t over,” he agreed.

* * *

They’d both been injured as time went on, some things worse than others.  Nothing kept them out of the fight for long.  They fell back into the easy rhythm of their relationship.  None of the guys said shit about how they pressed against each other, or shared everything from smokes to a sleeping spot.

They weren’t the only poor bastards huddling together in Bastogne though.  Bill was pretty sure that Hell was supposed to be hot.  At least Joe was with him.

Bill wasn’t about to admit it, but Joe had been right.  There was no reason to deny themselves what little happiness they could find.  Neither of them knew how long they had - anything could happen in war - and they lived each day as their last.

“Add more cover,” Bill said, dropping tree branches next to the foxhole Joe was working on for them.  “Don’t need you taken out by some lucky shot.”

Joe shook his head ruefully.  As he opened his mouth, hellfire rained from the sky.  Bill thought nothing of diving on top of Joe, pressing him to the frozen earth below.

When the bombardment stopped, they both laid there frozen for what seemed like forever, afraid to even breathe.  “You okay?” Bill finally asked, pulling away to look Joe over.

“Yeah, you?”

“I’m good.”  Bill poked his head out of the foxhole, listening for the men around them, orders echoing down the line to stay in their holes.  It was smart; there was likely to be a second round.

That was when he heard it.  Pained cries that sounded an awful lot like Toye.  “Shit.  Stay here,” he ordered Joe.

Joe grabbed his bicep, fingers digging in.  “I don’t think so.”

Bill whirled on him, capturing Joe’s lips for a brief yet fiery kiss.  He looked straight into Joe’s eyes when he pulled back.  “I love you.”

Joe was left stunned, Bill using the moment to slip away.

The next time he saw Joe, Bill’s vision was swimming against the pain of his blown-up leg.  Joe looked like he was going to be sick.  Instead, he started to cry, hitting his knees in the snow beside Bill.  “You can’t leave me like this,” Joe spat, clutching him tight.

“Sorry, Joe,” Bill apologized, hissing as all he could do was hold his leg.  “I’m sorry.”

“Couldn’t leave a man behind,” Joe murmured.

Bill saw the medics making their way through the woods and said, “Joe.  I gotta go.”

Joe nodded, pulling away enough to look at him.  “I love you too.”

Bill wanted to kiss him, but even foggy from pain and overwhelmed with feelings for Joe, he was aware of the mixed company they kept.  All he could do was nod.  “See ya soon, Joe.”

* * *

The first letter Bill received in the hospital read:  _ You’re an asshole. _

* * *

Joe wasn’t sure what to expect when he arrived at the address Bill had given him.  It was the Guarnere family residence, and Bill had only recently been able to come home, just before Joe had gotten shipped back to the States, in fact.

Joe had lost touch with his family once he moved away from home, so it wasn’t that hard of a decision to show up here.  He adjusted the strap on his shoulder, his bag laden with war prizes and everything he owned at the moment - his things had been shipped to one of his sister’s after signing up.  Damnit, he shouldn’t have been nervous.

He walked up the couple stairs, ringing the buzzer.  He took a deep breath, attempting to calm his nerves, but all he ended up doing was chewing on his lower lip.

A young woman opened the door, looking an awful lot like Bill.  She took in his pressed uniform and smiled warmly.  “Can I help you, trooper?”

His smile was weak by comparison.  “Yes, ma’am.  I’m Joe Liebgott.  I was hoping to see Bill.”

Her face lit up.  “Joe?”  She grabbed his arm, tugging him in immediately.  “Bill!” she hollered.  “Joe’s here!”  She looked up at Joe.  “I’m Nancy, by the way.  Bill’s told us all about you.”

A wheelchair came flying down the hall, skidding across the hardwood floor of the living room.  Nancy’s scolding didn’t stop Bill.  He propelled himself up from the chair on one leg, and launched himself into Joe’s arms.  Joe barely got out a greeting before lips were on his.

Joe had a moment of panic but he couldn’t find it in himself to care about someone else seeing them.  He had missed Bill far too much to let that stop him.  His arms were already holding Bill firmly to him, so Joe allowed himself to sink into the kiss, pouring out all the pent up feelings he’d had to hold onto in the darkness alone.

“Jesus, Bill,” a male voice spoke up, “let the guy breathe, huh?”

Joe jumped, looking to find their audience had grown.  Nancy was joined by another sister and a brother.

“Shuddup,” Bill grumbled.  He reached back for his wheelchair and Joe helped him get settled again.  Bill was grinning up at him.  “Damn, I missed you.”

Joe let the tension out of his body, smiling back.  “Missed you too… bastard.”

Bill’s brother laughed again.  “He’s got you pegged.”  He offered his hand to Joe.  “Frank.  This is Annie.”

Joe shook both their hands.  “I, uh, didn’t know Bill said anythin’ about us.”  He looked back at Bill, who shrugged.  “You could have warned me.”

Bill waved it off.  “Stop your yappin’ and come meet our Ma.”

Frank took Joe’s bag - which had been dropped when Bill pounced him - and said something about putting it in Bill’s room.

“Jus’ consider yourself lucky the whole family ain’t here,” Bill continued.

Joe recalled Bill was the youngest of ten and cringed.  Most of them were married and living elsewhere, so there wasn’t so many around on a regular basis, but he could only imagine them all together with spouses and kids running around.  His head spun at the thought.

He followed Bill down the hall to the kitchen.  “Ma, this here’s Joe Liebgott.  Joe, my ma, Augusta.”

Her smile was welcoming.  “Call me Auggie.  Or Ma.”  She shrugged.  “I’d give you a proper greeting but I’m afraid…”  She was rolling out pasta dough, hands covered in flour.

Joe immediately felt like he was being an inconvenience, showing up unannounced.  “Would you like some help?” he offered.

“Nonsense, dear.  You go catch up with Bill.  We’ll call for you when dinner’s ready.”

Bill led him just next door to a bedroom that was clearly meant to be the master.  “Ma and Dad moved upstairs so I don’t have to deal with the stairs.”  He huffed.  “Pain in the ass.”

“How’s your leg?”

Bill hopped himself over to the bed.  “Still hurts at random, though not as often.  Doc says it happens.  Called ‘em ‘phantom pains.’  But everythin’s all healed.”  Bill paused before asking, “Did ya wanna see it?”

Joe hesitated, then nodded slightly.

As Bill was working at his pants, all Joe could keep thinking about was the mangled leg he’d seen back in those woods.  But Bill was right.  Everything looked healed, and all there was left was a stump below Bill’s knee.  He moved his knee back and forth a couple times, making it look as though it were waving.  Joe shook his head.

Getting on one knee, Joe reached out to touch, but paused and looked at Bill first.  “Go ‘head.”  Bill’s skin still felt the same, warm and real beneath his fingers.

“Does it hurt for me to do this?” Joe asked.

“No.  Bit sensitive.”  Bill grabbed Joe’s wrist, tugging him up onto the bed.  “Supposed to get a prosthetic soon.  Be easier to get around than with those,” he said, nodding to the forearm crutches by the door.

Joe didn’t know what to say, so he just hummed an agreement.

“Hey.”  Joe looked over and Bill smiled at him.  “I meant it.  I really missed you.”

Joe leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to Bill’s mouth.  “And I meant it when I told you I loved you.”

Bill wrapped his arms around Joe and brought them down to the bed.  “Love ya too, Joe.”  He smiled as he informed, “Now that yer home, we can go find us a place of our own.  I know you ain’t gonna wanna stay here, what with privacy an’ all, and we deserve our own space.”

Joe’s brows shot up towards his hairline.  “You wanna move in together?”

“Why not?  You’re my guy, Joe.  Ain’t gonna be another one.  Now that I got you back, I ain’t about to let you get away again.”

Joe found himself smiling, thinking of the absurdity of it all.  “No place I’d rather be.”

Joe snuggled closer, comforted by the heartbeat he felt under his fingers, the steady rhythm assuring Joe that Bill was alive.  He was real.  And he wasn’t going anywhere.

/End

**Author's Note:**

> So, this ship happened. Been thinking about these jerks since [Blood in Bastogne](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9808013), where I had an idea for Bill giving Joe blood. Apparently, that percolated and I ended up thinking about “What if they were together at Toccoa, and Bill broke it off before they left, and that’s why Lieb is so pissy with him?” Now you know where those thoughts took us.
> 
> Also, Lieb’s one memory is based on what Ross McCall said in the video diaries. I literally found [this post](http://gilove2dance.tumblr.com/post/93171527593) as I was pitching this idea to Pup, and it fit perfectly, so I used it.
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](http://thedenofcaseywolfe.tumblr.com/).


End file.
